Arkham Asylum
by Jedi Healer
Summary: The events of Harleen Quinzel's transformation into Harley Quinn. After she convinces her superiors to let her conduct therapy sessions with the Joker,she finds herself falling for him, plummetting off the edge of sanity and into madness. Nolan-vers
1. The Joker

**So I tried to write this as Nolan-verse as I can. If you have any comments, sugestions, compliments, criticizing, etc, review =). I worked really hard on it so I hope everyone thinks it's good!**

Harleen Quinzel is a young woman who became an intern at The Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane. She has attractive, light blonde hair worn up in a neat bun often, paired with bright, cerulean blue eyes, over her soft cheek bones, and cheery, light-hearted deameanor.

Previously she had attended Gotham University on a scholarship for gymnastics, after graduating from high school with high marks, considered very intelligent. Harleen is an excellent gymnast, incredibly agile and lively, and could accomplish a wide variety of aerobic feats no mediocre woman could pull off. Harleen majored in Pyschology there at the university, becoming fascinated with the criminally insane, and developing a desire to study them.

After she graduated with a degree in Pyschology and the Joker had been caught, along with a bunch of other crooks who had risen up after him, she got an internship at Arkham Asylum. It had recently been re-opened, the re-opening sponsored by the famous Bruce Wayne. The mentally unstable lot of crooks were transfered over to the Asylum, including the Joker.

The Joker...had caught her eye. She was there when he was loose, terrozing the entire city. Harleen had pulled up everything the police had on him in the archives. She'd studied the detailed files on all of the crimes he had committed, and possible motives. But no one knew this man's name, or any of his past. Harleen had been unable to find anything on the matter. The only part of him people knew was what he was now. The Joker. A top-notch, hard-core sociopathic criminal with an insane obsession for Batman, who served the doctrine of chaos, and anarchy.

Harleen knew she wanted to see this Joker, to lay eyes on him for herself. She wanted to find out who he was... She wanted to know everything about this man. She didn't know why. She just knew...that she was fascinated with him. And now, she would get her wish...She was about to meet him.

Dr. Odin Markus, the doctor she was interning under, led Harleen down the white walled hall, and the blonde woman followed him, listening closely as he walked and explained everything to her. Her bright blue eyes followed his gestures, taking everything in eagerly. She read the numbers and names beside each locked door of the cells, peering through the windows at all of the inmates and patients housed inside the rooms.

The young intern's heels clacked lightly against the smooth corridor floors as they went, the fabric of her pencil skirt moving to the rhythm of her pace, and the harsh fluerescent lights placed at intervals along the ceiling reflected off of her blonde hair pulled back into a neat, prim bun. The walls around her were all a cream color, the floors a light tiled beige. As they progressed further down towards the basement, the halls got more dingier and darker colored.

They stepped into the elevater, and Dr. Markus pressed the button for the lowest floor, which was the maximum security area, where guards were posted at points scattered throughout.

"The maximum-security level." Markus said, as they exited the elevator. The hallway they had arrived at was dim. The walls were painted a two-tone duo which consisted of a grungy pastel green top, and a dark sage bottom. Dr. Markus lead Harleen down it, until they reached the end, where the lights were visibly brighter, and they rounded the corner into a signifiantly better illuminated corridor.

THey walked down the corridor side by side, and Harleen looked and saw the names of Gotham's worst insane crooks, catching glimpses of them through the double iron barred windows. She stared at each one of them, and some of them stared back. Others were sleeping, and some payed no attention to them as they passed. She waited patiently for them to reach the cell, listening to Dr. Markus's ongoing commentary of the Asylum with keen ears.

Then they finally came to it, the cell that housed the Joker. Harleen saw the label on the door, that read "Inmate #0801, The Joker", and her heart immediately began to race with excitement. Harleen stared through the window, and saw him.

He sat on his bare bunk inside, slouched against the wall, with his head back, dressed in the same standard patient issued get-up as everyone else. His hair hung in greasy treads on either side of his face, and they had a faint green tint to them. His face was free of make up, just plain skin, and she could see the two jagged scars on either side of his mouth showing plainly now that they weren't covered in crimson paint, and they looking like mangled, disfigured stitches on his skin. The sight halted Harleen in her tracks, and she stood there staring at him, mezmerized by his appearance, so plain and ordinary now...

"That's him?" She asked, just for confirmation.

"Uh-yeah. That's the Joker." Markus replied, watching Harleen with a slightly puzzled expression as she gazed at him as if she were transfixed.

The Joker turned to look out the window and saw a blonde woman and a doctor outside of the room. The girl had stopped in her tracks, and was _staring_ at him. The Joker returned the woman's gaze, staring back intimidatingly with his dark brown eyes. He wondered why the heck she was just standing there _gawking _at him. Not many other people found him this interesting. Most were scared. When the woman didn't move, the Joker looked her up and down. She had a bright, perky face, with light, innocent blue eyes, and blonde hair pulled back into a small bob at the top of her head. A pair of glasses were perched on the bridge of her nose, and beneath her white collared shirt she wore a slim grey pencil skirt.

The girl continued to stand there, like she was hypnotized or something. Just to jolt her out of her apparent trance, the Joker suddenly scowled at the woman, giving her a scary, ugly look, which Harleen caught immediately and jumped, surprised. The Joker laughed at her, as she finally snapped out of her daze, blinking several times. He watched her take a breath to steady her shaking figure, and then the doctor lead her on down the hall. The Joker waved at her, Harleen's gaze lingering back on him, before she finally returned her attention to the doctor and his tour of the rest of the Asylum. He wondered what it was exactly that had made her stand there staring at him for so long. Maybe he would find out soon.

Harleen unconsciously smiled, clutching a hand to her chest. She had just seen him, the Joker. Inside, her spirits soared. She wanted to talk to him. She wanted to analyze him. She'd do anything to get closer to this psycho. She had to know what it was...about the Joker, that just made him so...different.

It took a few days to get settled in at Arkham. She met all the doctors there, besides the one she knew, Markus, whom had given her the tour. She'd also met the current head of the Asylum, Jeremiah Arkham. He was the nepheiw of Arkham's founder, Amadeus Arkham.

Harleen accompanied Markus during every session he had with various inmates here, learning new things each time, and making her own personal notes on her clipboard, as suggested by Markus. This was preparing her for when she would ask him if she could analyze the Joker.

She built up her trust with Markus over the next few weeks, faithfully acompanying him everywhere, asking to analyze several hard-core pyschos and blowing him away with the results. She was determined to get the Joker's case, and she was doing everything she could to give him no reason not to when she asked.

Finally, Harleen popped the question, one day in his office, on her fourth week in the Asylum. She had been waiting so long for this moment. She could take the agonizing wait no more.

"I want to analyze the Joker." Harleen said, to Dr. Odin Markus, as he sat typing, updating a file for a patient on his computer.

"What? The Joker?" He said incredulously, looking up from the screen to gawk at her. "Are you crazy?"

When Harleen merely looked at him, with sincere, hopeful eyes, Markus asked "What are you thinking? He's way too wild and deranged for you...I don't want you exposed to that kind of madness, Harleen. You're so young."

"Oh please, Markus." Harleen said exasperatedly. "You underestimate my abilities! I'm perfectly capable of handling anything he throws at me, and you know it. Just give me a chance, will you?"

"No." Markus replied firmly. But Harleen was persistent.

"Please! Just let me talk to him, that's all. I really,_ really_ want to, Markus."

"No, Harleen. He's too crazy."

Harleen went silent, looking away. In a quieter voice, she said, "You don't trust me, do you? You won't let me do anything...You're holding me back!" Harleen turned to look at him again, with hurt eyes. "Why?"

"What? Holding you back? Harleen, that's nonsense. I've given you privileges going way beyond just being an intern here. You've had sessions with several extremely deranged beings in here, and you've done very well. But the Joker- He's different. He's a hard-core psychopath, one that just can't be reached. And he's smart, clever. He'll mess you up, Harleen. He'll twist and turn your mind inside out. It's already happened to two of our doctors. I don't want you to added to the lot."

"That's not gong to happen to me! I won't let him get to me, okay? I know that the Joker's just another deranged criminal, way better than those other doctors did. I won't be vulnerable like they were. You know you can count on me. I'm strong."

"Harleen-"

"Come on, Markus. Just give me a chance." She said again.

Markus sighed. After a short silence, he said, "He can't be trusted." It seemed like an obvious thing to say, but perhaps he thought he needed to make sure that she remembered that.

"I know." Harleen said. "I just wanna have a crack at him. Please, let me."

Markus was silent, staring foward with a frown on his face. Then he said, "I'll think about it."

Harleen's eyes became hopeful. She waited, and waited for the doctor to make his descision over the next few days. If he said no, then she would just have to keep trying. She knew she could convince him eventually. When she really wanted something, she would do whatever it took to get it.

_"There is something _  
_I see in you _  
_It might kill me _  
_I want it to be true "_


	2. The Beginning

**So, chapter two! The moment you've all been waiting for. Or so i wish. haha X). So I'm not entirely satisfied with the bit between Harleen and Dr. Markus, but I couldn't do any better than that. If you want to help me, feel free to give me suggestions!**

**So it looks like Christopher Nolan's preparing to do the third Batman film. Jonathon Nolan, his brother, is already at work on the script. Rumors strongly suggest that the Riddler will be the primary villain. I think that's a good call. So it seems doubtful that the Joker will be returning in the third film, and if the Joker's not going to appear, than there's no point in Harleen being there, as she would only serve as foreshadowing for the next film, of which there will be none, atleast not under Christopher's and Jonah's jurisdiction. **

**But I'm still going to go ahead with this story, because I think it would make an awesome re-launch to the series after Christopher finishes it off (by re-launch I mean a starter of a new three-movie series occuring after Christopher Nolan's Batman series, one that's focused on more on the canon of the criminals in Gotham than of Batman****)**

Harleen had this sort of wild, unbalanced side to her. A side that made her able to relate, in a way, to all of these criminals. It was a special connection to their world, a peice of them that she could understand.

She was so strangely fascinated with this class of crooks, the ones with the most extreme personalities. She was drawn to them. She wanted to see their way of thinking, their philosophies, if any, why they committed their crimes, and what went on inside their corrupt and twisted minds. She wanted to see the world from their point of view.

And the mind she wanted to get inside the most, so fervently and eagerly, was the Joker's. He was by far the most dazzling and impressive of all.

Two days went by since she'd asked Dr. Markus to let her analyze the Joker. In that time, Harleen, eager to find out _more_ about the Joker, went and talked to the guards assigned to the criminals in the maximum security level of Arkham, where the Joker was held. She was unable to pass up the oppurtunity to feed her eager and burning desire to know more about him.

She was sure not to let the Joker find out that she was snooping around trying to get more information about him. It would've been extremely embarrassing, for some reason.

Harleen had learned from the guards what the Joker had told them about his scars, and expressed his various views of the world and the people around them, in the short conversations he had with them from time to time. According to the guards' accounts, the Joker never retold the same story of his scars. It was different each time, so no one could ever know which one, if any, was true.

One of the stories stated that he'd gotten involved with some mob thugs, and they'd carved his face as punishment for not paying up in time. Another said that he'd done it himself, because he'd wanted to stay "happy" after his father had called him worthless and then jumped off a building, killing himself. (His mother was never in the picture.) And Harleen was sure that the Joker had told other stories along with those two. It made Harleen all the more anxious to see the him again.

She kept her fingers crossed for thirty-six hours. Then, on Thursday, she walked into Dr. Markus's office that morning, greating him with her usal cheerful attitude, and Markus said,

"Alright. I've decided to let you talk to him."

"The Joker? Yes!" Harleen cheered, beaming. "Thank you, Dr. You won't regret it. I_ promise_."

Markus nodded. "I certainly hope not." He said.

"So when do I start?" Harleen asked.

"Tomorrow. I set you up an appointment at 1:00."

Harleen sucked in a breath, brimming with joy and excitement. She couldn't wait. She was going to get to analyze the Joker. It was such a wonderful opportunity! She couldn't believe Markus had rolled over this easily.

"But listen to me, Harleen." Markus said. Harleen let out a puff of air, and rolled her eyes at him. "He's very dangerous. I just want you to be careful. Okay?"

"OK."

"I'll take a look at your assessment at the end of the session. If you do well with him, I will allow you to continue. But I'll be keeping a close eye on you, to make sure he isn't getting to you. If I think you're getting to involved, I'll take you off the case."

"Yes sirree, I understand." Harleen said, giving him a mock salute. Markus smiled.

For the rest of the day and night, and in the morning, Harleen's excitement and churning anticipation accompanied her everywhere. She was so elated she could barely contain herself, as she sat in the plain, white walled 'therapy session' room, at the cool, steel topped desk, right before the appointment was about to start. Her heart beat fast as she waited for her new 'patient' to arrive.

The previous day she'd spent a large amount of time going over the Joker's files again and again, committing everything to memory, so she could use it. She didn't want to disapoint Markus. If she screwed up, he would take her off of his case, so she'd do everything in her ability to avoid messing up. She wanted badly to keep having sessions with the Joker after this. She wanted to figure him out, and was determined to do just that. She had to satisfy her burning fascination with this psychotic murderer.

Fear and trepadition began to settle in, now that the time had nearly come, but Harleen pushed it back. She was scared, but she shouldn't be. THe Joker had nothing to threaten her with.

Harleen's breathe caught in her throat, as they guards approached with the Joker. Her blue eyes automatically focused and she straightened up in her chair, trying her best to calm herself. The door opened, and they brought him in. His wrists were bound by a pair of shiny metal handcuffs.

The Joker sat down, glancing around and licking his lips.

Harleen got a closer look at the dirty brown curls hanging on either side of his face, and the disfigured scars framing his mouth.

The guards looked to Harleen. "If anything happens, you know what to do." One of them said. Harleen nodded, and they both exited, leaving her alone with the Joker in the room. He turned his attention to her, cold eyes on her and everything around her, and Harleen pressed the record button on her voice recorder, signaling the beginning of the session. She readied her clipboard and pen, and then looked to the Joker, and introduced herself.

"Hi. I'm Harleen. Harleen Quinzel." She said. She found that she couldn't take her eyes off of the jagged scars on his cheeks, staring her in the face.

"Harleen...Quinzel." He repeated, looking at her. "That's a nice name." He said. His face was nonchalant.

Harleen added, "If you want, you can call me Harley Quinn, for short. It sounds like Harlequin." It was her attempt to break the ice, to get the Joker's favor, try to get closer to him, so she could get anything remotely close to a read on him.

The Joker went still, narrowing his dark eyes at her. Then he laughed, a high, delighted giggle, sitting back in his chair. "Are you uh..._flirting _with me..."He gave a lower chuckle, tilting his head foward and running some fingers through his scraggly brown hair, "...Harleeey?" he casted her a 'cunning' look that contained a glint of malice hidden just under the surface.

Harleen's cheeks heated up, her blue eyes going wide, and her heart beating faster, her face flustered and slightly embarrassed. And for an unfathomable reason, every muscle in her body seemed to tense up upon the Joker's teasing proposition. She knew he was just messing with her. Why had he made her loose her composure so easily?

The Joker caught on to her reaction, and laughed. "Hey. What's wrong? Hm?" He asked teasingly, obviously enjoying her discomfort. Harleen couldn't bear to look up at him, but she didn't know why. She didn't know what was wrong with her.

The Joker leaned over the table, to get closer to her face, and Harleen finally looked at him, her expression transforming to one of fear and consternation. He breathed on her for a few intense seconds, staring into her eyes, and then, without warning, he seized Harleen by the neck, in a chokehold, pulling her closer to him, and looking down on her with his edgy, brown eyes.

Harleen let out a little yip of surprise when he grabbed her, but the Joker shushed her. "Sh sh sh..." He grinned, observing her face, her eyes fill with cerulean-tinted apprehension. Harleen closed them, breathing fast, shallow breaths. The feeling of his hands around her neck (the cold handcuffs binding his wrists pressing against her smooth skin)...it was..._intoxicating_.

"Look at me." He commanded in a hush voice, and she did. "Are you scared?" The Joker asked quietly.

"Yes." Harleen breathed, staring into his deep, keen looking eyes, feeling his hot breathe on her.

"Mmmm. Good." He tightened his grip on her throat, savoring her fear for a few long moments. Harleen could barely breath. Not because of the Joker's grip tightening on her neck, or because of the fear it should've, by all means, caused. It was because of the Joker, with his hands around her throat, his face right in hers, his breath on her cheeks...It was something she should never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever feel.

The Joker released her, and Harleen gasped, her eyes still on him, as the Joker sat back in his chair. As soon as he let go of her, Harleen incedulously _wanted_ him _back _in her face, breathing on her and holding her neck tight in his hands-It was like a void where he'd been moments before, and everything about it was so, so _wrong_. He was...a psychotic murderer, a terrorist, a monster...

She sat there for a few seconds, her heart racing. She couldn't quite believe what had just happened-despite the fact that she knew how violent and crazy the Joker was, she hadn't in the least anticipated that he would do that. Harleen stared at him, slowly regaining her wits, as he sat there across from her and stared back, beating her down wth his intense, gaze. Then he spoke again.

"So, _Harley Quinn_...Since you have a nickname, I think I should have one too. How about you call me ...You call me..._Mistah J_? Short for the Joker. So you call me _that_, and I'll call you ..._Harley Quinn._ How's that sound?"

Harleen found her voice again, thankful for the smooth change in mood. "Okay. Mister...J." She said. The Joker sat slumped against the back of his chair, with his hands folded in front of him.

"NO, it's **_Mistah_** J."

"Okay...Mist_ah_ J." Harleen corrected, decidedly loosening her mood up, to suit the Joker's. She sat up straighter in her chair, bouncing slightly with the motion. Then she took a deep breath and asked, "Why are you here?" still trying to keep up that same perky demeanor.

"Uh-why? Because of the Batman. That's why." He answered like Harleen should have known that. And she did. This was just a ploy to get the session started. "He just had to go and spoil all my fun." The Joker looked at her meaningfully.

"So you think that...terrorizing the thousands of citizens of Gotham, killing cops, robbing mob banks...Is fun?" Harleen asked.

"No, no, no, no, no. Harley, you see...You just don't get it."

"Get what? She asked.

"You don't get that ...all these things... are for a bigger purpose." The Joker spread his hands out, mimicking an enlarging motion. "A purpose...to show people that, that they're all pathetic, that deep down, they're uh, no better than us. Than me." He laughed.

Harleen cocked her head, thinking about that, the Joker watching her face intently. She saw some truth in his statement, because everyone was imperfect, selfish, and flawed. But not everyone was capable of becoming a mass murdering maniac like the Joker, were they? She didn't think so.

"What do you believe in?" Harleen asked.

The Joker paused to evaluate the question for a few beats, and then he sat forward in his chair, and answered. "I believe...In living in a world with no rules."

Harleen contemplated that in silence. It sounded...nice. But if living in a world with no rules was what he believed in, then his idea of that must be killing anyone and everyone he felt like, robbing banks, terrorizing the city...That wasn't right.

"What do you believe in, Harley?" The Joker asked, taking her by surprise.

"Why does it matter to you?" Harleen replied, taken aback. After considering it, she suddenly realized that she didn't really _know_ what she believed in, as she considered a response to his inquire.

"Why...are you here, Harley? Hm?" He pressed. "To help me? I don't need your help...You see, _You're_ the ones that need help." Harleen furrowed her brows at that, but didn't say anything, and the Joker went on to explain, "You see...you doctors, and psychiatrists..." He pointed to Harleen, his finger swirling around in a circle, "You all think that you can...you can '_help_' us. But you're just as messed up as us. You're...just..as..screwed..up as we are. Assuming, ah, that we are, ah, '_screwed_' up, as you say. You're all..._pathetic_."

The Joker's dry, bemused eyes burned through her, making Harleen feel like every word he was saying was the truth-when she knew it wasn't. Or did she? What if...he was right? No...he couldn't be. She wasn't sure.

"You know, Harley Quinn suits you well." The Joker said.

"What do you mean?" Harleen asked.

"You're a...a bad joke, just like the rest of em." The Joker laughed. "You sit there, wearing your little hi-heels, and glasses, and fancy shirt..." THe Joker made movements with his body to go along with the descriptions, "Trying to look all _important_...But you're, you're not. You're just a little girl, dressing up like an adult, pretending you have it_ all together_...Like you're an innocent little _angel_." He stared at her condemningly, and Harleen stared back, into his eyes.

"No...I'm not." Harleen replied. But the Joker just cocked his head at her, eyebrows raised, just pushing her to doubt herself.

"Are you?" He asked, persistant.

"Is this you're game?" Harleen asked. "Is that what you said to the other doctors?" She half laughed out loud at the weak attempt. It wasn't like the Joker. Maybe he was just testing her, to see how resilient she really was.

"Well, the last two were uh, guys. So no, not _exactly_." The Joker said, smiling, creating disturbing butterflies in Harleen's stomach. "But it's true, isn't it? You're just a fake. Aren't you, little Harley? Hm?"

"No..." Harleen said, but her heart beat a little faster, with unease. "You're the fake." She shot back, feeling childish, almost, the way she turned the accusation back on him.

"Oh, no, no, I'm completely real, as real as can be. You know that."

"No one even knows your name. Who you are..."

"They don't need to. It only matters who I am now. The Joker."

Harleen sighed. The Joker stared at her. She had been looking into his dark brown eyes so often, and it felt as if she could get lost in their depths. They sat there in silence for what seemed like a long time to Harleen, but was really only a few moments. Then she decided on another tactic. "Why did you become the Joker?" She asked, hoping _maybe_ she would get something out of it.

The Joker cocked his head to the side, a glint in his eye. "It's a funny world we live in. Don't you think so, Harleey-Quinn?" He chuckled lightly.

A tiny shiver ran up Harleen's spine once again. What was up with her? She felt like laughing along with him, for some absurd reason... The question hadn't gotten her anywhere, Harleen realized when she recovered from her short spaz.

Harleen was worried now that the Joker would get tired of answering her questions. She decided maybe it was time to end the session, so their interactions could stay fresh.

"I think that's enough for today." She said, taking a breath, pressing the stop button on the recorder. But as she rose slowly, and scooted the chair up under the desk again, Harleen found she didn't _want_ to leave. She wanted to stay, to continue talking to the Joker, to keep asking him questions until she ran out, listening to his voice and gazing at his scars-It was crazy, and one more reason why she should leave.

Harleen picked up his file from the table along with the recorder, pressing the stop button. Her gaze flitted back to him, and then away again, and she walked towards the door.

"See ya, tootes." The Joker said. She left, feeling strangely like something inside of her had just fell into place, and she just didn't know it yet.

_"How can you see into my eyes like open doors?  
Leading you down into my core  
Where I've become so numb..."_


End file.
